Area opened a drawer in Amaka’s bedroom. It was full of underwear. He put his hand inside, felt around and held up a brown thong. He rolled the silk pants into a ball and put it into his pocket. He looked around the room then he hopped onto the bed. He crawled to the top, lay on his back, and crossed his hands under his head on the pillow.
The gateman stood in the open-door frame. From behind, a man pressed a pistol into his back. Another man was getting undressed, pushing his tight jeans down his legs, his shirt already on the ground by his feet.
‘What time is she coming back?’ Area asked the gateman.
‘Oga, I don’t know.’
‘I am not your oga. Did she tell you where she was going?’
‘No, sir. She just left yesterday.’
‘Since then she has not returned?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Stop calling me sir. I am not your oga.’
‘Yes sir.’
‘And stop lying to me.’
‘I swear to God, I am not lying to you sir.’
Area nodded at the man behind the gateman. The thug raised his weapon and hit the back of the man’s neck with the gun. The gateman yelled and fell to his knees. The other man at the door was down to his underpants. He bent down and picked up the black trousers he had taken from one of the dead police officers and he held it up by waistband. The belt was still in the loops. Behind him the lookout entered the room.
‘Why did you leave your post?’ Area asked.
‘That one they call Yellowman, him park moto outside, come begin dey search ground. He just leave now.’